


The Cost of Living

by Yobotica



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Genre: Abuse of italics, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, But here it is, Fictober 2019, I'm not sure where this came from, M/M, Some tags omitted for spoiler reasons, Supernaturals are known, Vampires, Werewolf lore from popular Teen Wolf fanfiction tropes, Werewolves, handwave-y worldbuilding, since that's how I roll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-15 07:10:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21249446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yobotica/pseuds/Yobotica
Summary: Ostensibly written for fictober 2019, I don't think this follows any kind of prompts. Just a supernatural Deus Ex: Human Revolution AU, in that Adam Jensen was turned into a werewolf by the famed supernatural scientist, David Sarif.And Pritchard? Well, sure, he's a grumpy prick, but maybe things aren't exactly as he thought they were.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless, _shameless_ self indulgence here, and I refuse to apologize for it.
> 
> Written in an extremely short amount of time (for me) and, un-beta'd.

Frank was on comms for Jensen, _again_. He'd thought, a long time ago, that this sort of work would be exciting, but the reality didn't live up to the films. Not by a long shot. 

Of course, his own reality hadn't lived up to his dreams back then, either. 

Still, here he was, watching Adam prowl about an abandoned lab, nineteen different windows open on his computer with potentially relevant information on the company, its employees, security terminals and cameras, contracts, background checks, all the things that made up his work that no one ever actually appreciated, least of all fucking Jensen. 

There was movement in the far side of the lab, and Frank had learned enough about Jensen that if _he_ saw it, Jensen saw it - and he did see it, was already ducking behind a console. 

That glance wasn't enough for Frank to identify any details other than that it wasn't anyone in a lab coat, but he opened another tab to prepare a search the moment he had details. He didn't have access to all of Jensen's senses, just his sight and hearing (thought not nearly at Jensen's own sensitivity), but when Jensen dared to curl around the console and take a look, Frank's breath caught before he could stop himself. 

Jensen ducked back behind the console, and Frank shook his head, harshly. He was right, it hadn't been an employee at all; it was a monster, a man tall and misshapen even at a glance, with strange proportions and protrusions about his body - and he'd gasped because it was a monster both he and Sarif had some previous experience with, although neither had thought _his_ business would overlap with theirs. He cut off the search and closed the new window he'd opened, because this threat he was already familiar with. 

"Jensen," he said, sharply, because he had to make sure the man was paying attention, "Listen. Do _not_ engage, and do not reply to me until even _you_ can't sense him anymore. That's the Chimera, the product of illegal supernatural experimentation. We don't know his full capabilities."

Jensen didn't say anything, which Frank was grateful for - while Frank's communications couldn't be heard by anyone other than Jensen himself, it was possible that the Chimera could hear Jensen's reply, though even most supernaturals couldn't. 

It was a tense few minutes; and if Jensen were be able to hear the conversation between the others in the lab, Frank couldn't tell. But he did hear the lab doors opening and sealing shut a few minutes later, and Jensen waited a few minutes more before standing. 

"You knew who he was," he growled, as he made his way to the door opposite the one the Chimera and his companion had left through. "Why wasn't I briefed on him?" 

"We didn't know he'd be here," Frank said, and he knew that Jensen wouldn't be happy with that answer, even if it was the truth. 

"But you weren't surprised to see him there, either, so, _again_, why wasn't I briefed?" 

Frank sighed. "Not, no, it's not..." he began. "Listen, you can ask Sarif for the details in debriefing. What I can tell you now is that we don't know the full extent of his abilities, only that he has at least some variety of vampire, wolf and lamia abilities." 

Jensen let out a harsh breath. "We're talking about this when I return." 

Frank shrugged, which Jensen couldn't of course see, and which he knew pissed the agent off. He was used to Jensen's demands, his aggressive nature. He was like that before he became a wolf; it only got worse afterwards, is all.

"Take it up with Sarif," he said, since David had all the information. After all, it's how Frank came to be in his 'employ'. He knew David well enough at this point to realize he'd probably be in the debrief as well, if only to answer questions that directly pertained to him, because everyone knew the relationship between Jensen and himself was fraught to say the least, and David would likely leave it up to Frank to decide how much to tell. 

The rest of the mission was tense, but they both had plenty of experience in this regard, thankfully. As expected, Jensen not only collected the data they needed, but some extra besides. Once he was safely extracted, Frank sent a message to Sarif, and started locking down the lab. Jensen was expected back within the hour, and Frank would have to warn Sarif about what they'd seen. 

It was going to be a long night.

========

Sarif wasn't exactly pleased at the news that the Chimera had shown up, but was less surprised than Frank had expected. The lab was only peripherally related to past known targets or associations. At this point, Frank had no idea what he was after anymore, since the man who'd created him, Lars Kordin, had been captured, and then killed during an escape attempt.

The news had most kindly described Kordin as a mad scientist, conducting insane experiments on supernaturals and humans alike - and in the Chimera's case, _creating_ something else altogether. 

What the newspapers hadn't covered was Frank's involvement with Kordin. In fact, Frank's name also didn't appear in any of the official reports, either, only identified as a numbered victim. He didn't like talking about any of this, but he had some hope Sarif would keep this secret, since he was very, very involved. 

Jensen, when he finally arrived, was furious. He was the kind of man who kept his feelings under his vest, so to speak, but the easiest to identify was anger, especially after he'd been Changed. His body held a certain kind of tension even a human would sense; he was pitched at a certain angle when he strode in. Frank sighed. 

Jensen, to his credit, reported to Sarif first, had hardly spared Frank a glance at all, until his eyes cut to Frank after the official debrief was finished. 

"So, who's the Chimera?" he asked, and though the question was ostensibly directed at Sarif, Jensen's eyes were on Frank. 

Sarif gestured for Frank to answer anyway. 

"His real name is unknown," Frank answered. "He was created by Lars Kordin in a lab, or many labs, the result of decades of supernatural research. Lars was a registered vampire of the Gregario Clan, and was captured and killed 9 years ago, after his web of extremely illegal research and experimentation labs had been discovered. The Chimera's relationship to Kordin is officially known, of course, but the nature of it... isn't, " Frank said. "In any case, he hasn't interfered with any of our own labs, and he wasn't on our radar at this time. Obviously, we _were_ caught off guard by his appearance, but I've prepared files we have on him on this drive." Of course, his own information wasn't anywhere on that drive, he wasn't stupid enough to actually have physical records. 

Jensen looked at the drive for a second before he grabbed it, with less anger than Frank had expected. "Why are you here, then?" he asked, in that slow way of his. Of course Frank wasn't usually physically present during the debriefings, but the thing about Jensen - one of the most infurating things about Jensen - was that he was smarter than he looked. "You _know_ him though, don't you?" 

Frank felt himself stiffen. "That's classified," he snapped, before he could stop himself, and Sarif cleared his throat softly from behind his desk. "I, yes, but," Frank relented. He doesn't want to say more, but Jensen cocked an eyebrow, and Frank glanced to David, who nodded his head just once, barely at all, but enough. 

"It doesn't leave this room," Sarif murmured, and though the words were quiet, the weight of his authority, his _age_, were behind them. Even Frank didn't know his real age, but despite everything, they weren't exactly close. 

"Understood," Jensen murmured, eyes flicking back to Frank, curious. 

Frank looked away, and sighed again. "I was in Kordin's employ for some of that time," he said, and glanced to David to see if he'd allow this vague explanation to stand. David shrugged, and Frank cocked his head slightly. For all that he'd known David for nearly a decade, he still found the vampire very difficult to read.

Jensen frowned. "That can't be true. His associates were all jailed, or killed. Your name isn't on any of the reports."

Frank laughed. "I'm sure they also detailed all of his creations, as well," he said as meanly as he could, but Jensen didn't flinch. "Myself, and others like me, were, ah, 'employed' as minors. I was no longer in his employ when his labs were raided, and he and his 'associates' were arrested." This was, also, _technically_ true, and the fact that David didn't bother to clarify or explain had to mean he was alright with Frank leaving it at that. That, even if David trusted Jensen, he respected that Frank didn't. Despite himself, Frank was kind of touched by that.

Jensen glanced to David, and after a beat or two of eye contact, relaxed a bit. "Fine," he said, flipping the drive over in his fingers. "But if anything else comes up..." 

"I promise," Frank said, "That drive contains all the _relevant_ information about the Chimera."


	2. Chapter 2

Frank came to, slowly. His mouth felt drier than usual, and though his pulse was slow, it was at least steady. He felt a weakness, a sluggishness that felt unnatural, and when he finally opened his eyes, he saw a dull metal surface a few feet above his head, and turning his head slightly revealed that they were in some sort of metal cell, almost cartoonish in its design - barred, complete with locking barred door. But this cell was inside their own labs - Frank knew these consoles, this equipment well enough; he maintained much of it himself, had even built some of it. Outside the cell, the orange lock down lights flashed, but the alarms and digitized instructions had all been silenced. The lab's door was open, but there was no one in sight in the lab or the hallway at all. 

It took him longer than it should have to realize he wasn't alone in the cell. Slowly, and as quietly as he could, he twisted to look behind him. Jensen, _of course_ it was Jensen, and the relief that came to him at that moment was less and less unusual, these days. Almost six months since Jensen first encountered the Chimera, and if they didn't exactly get along, they certainly didn't yell as much as they had before, at least.

His relief was short-lived, however, as he realized that Jensen wasn't just slumped in unconsciousness - he was actually partially shifted into his wolf form, and when Frank approached, he could see that Jensen's arms were in manacles that reflected the bright orange siren, and a similarly shiny chain connected them that was threaded through the bars of the cell. It didn't take a genius to realize the metal was silver.

Frank wasn't part of Jensen's 'miracle resurrection' into the supernatural directly, but he knew almost all of Jensen's capabilities - or at least, the ones he'd been designed to have. Any other material, and Jensen would have been able to rip the manacles off, or break the chain, but silver? For all that Jensen wasn't really a 'natural' werewolf, he did still have many of their natural weaknesses, including silver, and - after a quick few sniffs - the wolfsbane he was certain he could still smell in the air.

Frank sat down with a sigh. Even though wolfsbane didn't affect him in the same way, he was still pretty helpless in this situation. Frank _hated_ being helpless. He realized that their cell must be made entirely of silver, or perhaps coated, just enough to affect supernaturals who were weak to it. He didn't know how silver affected wolves directly, after all. 

"Jensen?" he asked softly, scooting a little closer, but still out of range of either the claws or the fangs. He didn't know _which_ kind of wolfsbane was used, after all, and a partial shift in unconsciousness was hardly a good sign. "Jensen, _wake up!"_

There was a soft groan, but it quickly grew into a growl that had Frank scooting backwards on his hands as fast as he could. It was a sound he'd heard before - but only through their info link, never like this. It had never been so terrifying as it was now, snarl ripping from Jensen's mouth as he lunged forward, only to yelp in pain as he was forced back by the chains. His arms were bare, and what skin could be seen was starting to turn a mottled purple, starting at the wrists, where the manacles lay. 

"Jensen, it's me!," Frank hissed. "It's Frank, can you, are you... are you there?" 

It took a few minutes, but eventually Jensen's form sagged forward, away from the bars, and after a few deep, shuddering breaths, he opened his eyes. Even though they were still shining a deep, dull red, and Jensen was still halfway between wolf and man, he at least looked like he was, well, back to himself. Mostly. 

"Frank," he rumbled, and even though their situation was pretty bleak, the surge of relief returned. "We're... In the labs?" 

The wall that held the door from the lab to the hallway did have windows from about three and a half feet off the ground to the ceiling, but Jensen was bolted to the furthest wall of the cell from the door, and sitting as they were, neither could see anything but the hall's ceiling and the top of the other side of the hallway. The orange lockdown lights were flashing in there, as well. "Yes," he said. "At least on the third sub basement. Do you... Do you remember anything?" 

Jensen shook his head. "I was in my office, and then I woke up here. I was prepping for a meeting with my team." There was a hesitation to his voice that Frank only rarely heard. "I think I can smell - wolfsbane?" 

"Probably," Frank agreed; his nose wasn't nearly as sensitive, after all. "It's one of the only things that'd knock you out from a distance. Though, I think they must have gassed the whole building with something, probably a cocktail that affects humans and supernaturals alike. I don't remember anything, either. One minute I was getting a snack from the machine, and then I woke up in here, with you." 

Jensen frowned. "Another attack?" he asked. "Have--," he cut off as their attention was drawn by movement outside the tall lab windows, as an armored figure passed in the hall, weapon at the ready. They glanced in at the two of them, and Frank could hear the man speak into a radio that 'the hostages on 312-A were awake', then silence. If the man received a response, Frank couldn't hear it. 

Jensen sighed, and shifted slightly so that he was leaning forward as much as he could, very carefully avoiding resting his arms on the bars of the cell. "Great," he said, and Frank almost laughed, though nothing about this situation was funny. "It sounds like we'll be getting a visit from their boss soon," he said. Frank nodded, and finally sat down fully, though he was careful not to lean against the bars himself. He was so tired. 

"Well, we might at least get some answers," he said. "Though, I have a suspicion that this has been in the works for a while." 

"Why do you say that?" 

"What was your security meeting about, Jensen? On my end, there have been just a few people whose security practices have been, well, lax, but in the way that humans tend to be when they get comfortable and lazy," he said. "There's only eight people on my list, but corporate, you know? Even though I'm the head of cybersecurity, I have to go through 'the proper channels' when it comes to discipline or retraining," he said. "I was working on a report for Dav-Sarif about these employees. You'd have been copied, since one of yours was on that list, along with the receptionist, and two of the six researchers that use this very lab," he said sighing. 

Jensen frowned. "Why didn't you bring it up to him sooner?" he asked, and Frank laughed. 

"You think I didn't? He told me I have to do things 'the right way'," he mocked, complete with air quotes. "On the face of it, I suspect he simply thinks I'm overzealous, that...," he trailed off and shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I was following instructions," he said, and Jensen barked a laugh that he turned into a cough. _Weak._ Frank just scoffed at him. 

Things were quiet for a few moments before Jensen spoke up again. "I get why I'm in here, chained up, but why are you in here with me?" he asked. 

Frank shrugged. "How could I possibly know that, Jensen?" he asked. "I woke up here only a few moments before you, you know. I can't exactly get myself out, now can I?" 

Jensen just nodded, and when Frank glanced back over, it looked like he wanted to say something, but he remained silent. 

Frank sighed, but Jensen cleared his throat before Frank could say anything. "Let's see if we can do anything to get out of here," Jensen said instead. "Do you have anything you could pick these with?" he asked, gesturing to the manacles. They were really the old-fashioned kind, huge and clunky that included the lock in the design rather than a padlock on the outside. 

Frank brightened for a moment, because theoretically, he could have - he kept a set of lockpicks in his jacket, _just in case_, because he was a paranoid bastard, and their captors hadn't stripped him of it before he'd been thrown in here - but he shook his head. "I can't," he said quietly, frowning. Why would Jensen even ask? He had to know Pritchard couldn't help. 

Jensen opened his mouth, but then snapped it shut as his gaze went toward the far wall, scanning the hallway. 

Just a few moments later, and even Pritchard could hear that they had company incoming. He nearly groaned when their visitors entered their view, because striding down the hallway in full tactical gear, flanked by two armored men like the guard earlier, was the Chimera.

========

Jensen cut his eyes to Frank only once after the Chimera came into view, far too fast for Frank to ascertain his expression or if he meant to communicate anything.

But then the Chimera was in front of their cell, and everything was quiet for a moment. The Chimera stared at Jensen, Jensen stared back. 

Frank hadn't seen this... _person_, for many years, and they hadn't been kind to him. He'd always looked wrong, with eyes too small in a face too wide; strange scales in patches on his odd, greenish skin - all of this alongside the more obvious inhuman elements he had, strange bone spikes jutting from his spine, his neck. Frank had a memory of him where the Chimera had a tail, but like most of his memories from that time, it was vague, blurry now. But the Chimera's eyes seemed more sunken now, the patches of scales were bigger than Frank remembered, and there were odd, veiny bulges on his visible skin. He was somehow still just as terrifying, if only because his eyes held the same look when his gaze skated over Frank before darting back to Jensen - that whatever he looked at was only a thing to him, no recognition of any kind.

Then he nodded, and left, but one of his guards remained behind. It was impossible to tell anything about the person behind the masked helmet. "I'm sure you have questions," they said, in a deep voice, "But we want you to know, you're only hostages here, leverage. If your boss does what he's told, everything will be fine. If he doesn't," the guard said, before turning their head to look straight at Frank, "_you'll_ be the one that pays for it. He seemed to like you, so it'd certainly be a shame if something happens to his pet human." Then, quiet for a moment before a mean chuckle. "I hope you aren't friends; Mr. Sarif doesn't seem like he's in a cooperative mood." 

Then they too, turned and left. Frank swallowed, and turned to Jensen, who looked just as stony-faced as he had when he first sensed the Chimera approaching. 

Frank sighed, and shifted so he was leaning forward with his forearms on his knees. "Well, at least we know we're in for a boring time," he tried, but of course Jensen didn't respond. 

"We have to get out of here," Jensen said quietly, and Frank barked out a laugh. 

"You think?" He replied, then sighed. He knew he was tense, but relaxed slowly as the silence stretched out. 

Jensen said nothing, wasn't even really looking at him, and Frank finally realized that he wasn't going to say anything. 

But, why hadn't he asked why the Chimera (or at least his guards) thought Frank was human?

========

It wasn't long before Frank felt himself get tired in the way that meant the sun had come up. He glanced over at Jensen, who was mostly silent save for a few small growls whenever he shifted slightly. The skin on his arms looked worse; mottled and veiny in a way that looked painful as hell, but Jensen bore it like he apparently did everything else - with gritted teeth and silence.

He cocked his head when he saw Frank's gaze on his wrists. "Can't you pick locks?" He asked, voice low and tight.

"Are you asking because you looked at my record?" he asked meanly. "Besides, you know I can't pick _those_," he said, with a shrug. 

"I've seen everyone's records,"Jensen replied, gruff, and Frank scowled. "Why would I know one way or another whether you could? And before you scoff, no, I'm not assuming you kept up your skills, only that I have," he said. 

Frank looked up at that, eyes narrowed. "Jensen," he said, slowly. "They're _silver_."

"Believe me, I know," Jensen coughed, then glanced up at Frank. His eyes were still glowing Alpha red, and the effect was... well, it was arresting, that's all, but his own eyes narrowed back. "Wait, why would that affect _you?"_

Frank cocked his head, but Jensen seemed genuinely confused. He looked away, worried at his lip with his teeth briefly as he pondered this. Jensen couldn't not know, could he? With his special super senses, he never realized? 

Frank took a deep breath, then let it out. "Jensen, I'm... you really don't know?" He asked, because he'd never told a living soul, and this information could end his life as he knew it if it reached the authorities, which, of course, Jensen _had been_ before this job.

"Know _what?_" the wolf asked sharply. "Silver doesn't affect humans, but..."

"You don't... smell it on me?" Frank pressed. 

"You smell mostly human to me," Jensen answered. 

"Mostly?"

"Well, you know, some people have... ancestors that weren't human. There's something there, I figured you had a fae somewhere back in your line - something that doesn't often make its way into records."

"I'm a vampire," Frank blurted, and Jensen barked a harsh laugh.

"Bullshit," he said. "I've met vampires, and you're no vampire."

Frank laughed softly. "I... I honestly thought you knew," he said.

Jensen cocked his head. "Does Sarif know?"

"He's my Sire," Frank answered, shrugging, like that wasn't another of his most closely guarded secrets. "In a way, I'm as much an experiment of his as you are, I suppose. I don't... I'm not really much of a vampire anyway; I've never had anything but synthetic blood he manufactures for me, and I can't do half the things vampires are supposed to be able to do; my senses are only slightly sharper, I'm only slightly stronger, and sunlight only creates a mild reaction, if any. However, silver still burns."

Jensen was quiet for a moment. "How did this happen?"

Frank sighed again, loudly. "I might as well tell you now. Do you remember the last time we saw the Chimera? Almost six months ago, when you were in China?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well, you were right - I did know him personally, sort of. He was created by a vampire named Lars Kordin, never officially Registered, but known, who had labs all over the world, dabbling in illegal supernatural research. The Chimera was one of his pet projects, an enforcer of sorts sent to those who 'betrayed' him. He constantly tinkered on him, made changes or improvements. When he wasn't on a mission of some kind, he was probably getting more tests done on him."

He glanced at Jensen, who nodded for him to continue. "Well, another of Lars' pet projects was keeping an army of thralls to do whatever he needed doing. If you fell into his web, and had a skill he found valuable, you'd end up his slave. When your mind deteriorated too much to be saved, you'd be 'disposed' of, sometimes even to the Chimera, if he wanted to test something new, or make an example to new allies of what his little pet could do. I was a young, dumb kid who hacked into something I shouldn't have, and me and my friends were all made into his thralls. I was sixteen."

Jensen coughed slightly, and Frank knew it was because he was starting to put together odd gaps in the history that Frank's official record showed. "I was a thrall for ten years before his Chicago lab was discovered and raided - most of my friends had already been disposed of at that point, and most felt that my mind could never be recovered. Sarif offered an 'experimental treatment', if I was transferred to his care, and my name wiped from the official record. In the end, he Turned me, but it was still almost a year before I could even speak again. My status was never officially Registered, however, and I live as much of a human life as I can. I just have to drink synthetic blood twice a month, and that's a small price to pay for my life," he said, and shrugged like he wasn't pathetically grateful for what he had now - he remembered what it was like, being a thrall, and he'd die before he let that happen again, though in a way, he kind of had.

Jensen nodded. "That's... incredible," he said, and though Frank often felt umbrage at Jensen's words, these at least felt genuine. "I couldn't tell - you don't smell like a vampire at all, you don't move like one. Your heartbeat is a little slower than most, but... within human parameters."

"I thought you knew. This... if what I am gets out, what Sarif has done... This information could ruin everything for me if it got out. But that's why I can't just pick the lock, either to your cuffs or the cell. I wouldn't be able to keep the necessary dexterity through the pain."

Jensen grunted then. "No one will hear it from me, but you could've been less of a dick, you know."

Frank laughed. "Yeah, sure, just spill my _secret supernatural status_ to the _ex-cop_, is that right?"

"I didn't mean that - I meant, if you felt I could ruin your life, why the hell have you been such a dick? You thought I already knew," Jensen said.

Frank's laugh was a little meaner this time. "Jensen, you're an ex-cop, who was in SWAT, who joins this job and not two months in, gets turned into a, a super-werewolf. Why do you think?"

But Jensen just stared at him, frowning, like he didn't see the connection. "You're telling me you didn't know a single asshole on the force who joined up for the free supernatural upgrade all law enforcement is entitled to if they're injured on the job? Like half of SWAT wasn't hoping to get shot on the job to come out of it 'suped up'? You had to know most of the supes on the force were those that were human first, and abused their new power alongside the badge they'd always abused, right?"

Jensen flinched then, and Frank nodded. "That's what I thought," he said, then swallowed. "That is, I thought you were one of _those_ men, who somehow failed at upgrading in the force, so sought a position here in hopes of getting the upgrade another way."

Jensen laughed softly. "No, I never... I mean, it was a clause in my contract, yes, but I hadn't put it there. I hadn't read it fully - I wasn't exactly given the standard 'supernatural upgrade'," he offered, dry, and Frank laughed. 

"I suppose so," he murmured, but this was feeling too much like a _moment_, so he shook his head. If this went on much longer, he might actually apologize or something. 

Jensen seemed to feel the same, and shifted so he was sitting up a little more. "So, your powers are... nonexistent because you drink synthetic blood, right?"

"That's the theory," he said, then looked sharply at Jensen, because...

"Then what if you drank my blood?" Jensen asked, and Frank had to look away because he didn't want Jensen to see his reaction. 

Like he'd thought, he felt his fangs actually grow a bit at the idea, felt his breath become shallow so he could attempt to scent the wolf's blood - and they were close enough that he _could_ scent it, rich and warm and earthy...

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I don't know what would happen."

"You could get us out of here," Jensen pressed. 

"I still wouldn't be able to touch the cuffs, or the cell door," he scoffed. 

"No, but you could use pheromones on the guard to make him do it for you," he said, and Frank tensed, but couldn't stop the rapid, shallow breaths. 

"He's wearing a mask," he said, and Jensen laughed.

"I know that model; it's not one with filters," Jensen replied, and Frank swallowed. Jensen's scent was thick on his tongue now that he was aware of it. 

"That's... that's a lot to ask," he murmured, still looking down, because he _did_ want it, he wanted to drink from Jensen; he was always, always hungry in a way the synthetic blood couldn't hope to satisfy. It only made the thirst less intense, easy to forget about, but it was always present. 

"I know," Jensen replied. "But as it is, I can't guarantee I won't tear you apart - we know they have weaponised wolfsbane, and you're not strong enough to stop me like this," he said. "I don't see any other options."

Frank looked up then, and kept his gaze up to see Jensen's reaction to his appearance - his fangs were almost fully extended at this point, and he could feel the that his pupils held the orange glow of a hungry vampire. "I could hurt you," he said, already moving closer. Jensen was restrained with his arms behind his back - there's no way he could stop Frank if he went too far.

"You won't," Jensen said, firm, like it wasn't just faith but fact. 

Frank stopped in front of him, gaze darting between Jensen's eyes and his throat, at the strong, rapid pulse there. "Are you sure?" he asked, and focused on Jensen's answer, not the roar of his heartbeat, just to make sure. He might never get another opportunity like this again, might not ever _let_ himself drink again, and the depth of his thirst terrified and thrilled him in a way he knew he could grow addicted to. 

Jensen nodded, and tilted his head slightly, exposing his throat. "I'm sure," he said softly. "Do it."

========

Frank stopped resisting, and rushed forward, straddling Jensen's lap as he sank his fangs into the wolf's throat. He'd worried about missing, perhaps, or biting too deep or too shallow, or any other number of unforeseeable issues with the logistics of this, but his body knew exactly what to do and how to do it.

The rush of blood over his tongue was like nothing he'd ever tasted, and he knew later he'd be unable to describe the sensations of it - it was more than scent or taste, but was definitely both, as well. There was a vitality there, a rush of energy and power that filled him up, warming him from the core outward. Jensen himself was warm, but for the first time in a long time, Frank felt warmth blossom from within.

He was also blindingly hard in moments, rutting against Jensen's stomach with his mouth still latched firmly to Jensen's neck, drinking in long, thirsty pulls. Jensen healed quickly, and Frank had to _keep biting him_ to ensure another few mouthfuls of his blood. 

He could hear Jensen, too, the soft gasps and growls, and then a moan - Frank wasn't even sure whose it was. But he could feel Jensen was hard as well, pressing up against him through their clothes, his hips moving in stuttering thrusts, shoulders straining to get closer to Frank. 

It was overwhelming, intimate in a way he'd never experienced. He was close, so _close_ to coming when he realized that he wasn't just feeling his own arousal - he was feeling Jensen's too, heard Jensen's voice in his head, chanting _more, more, Francis, please_, and Frank ripped himself away and shot backwards, fangs tearing through Jensen's flesh in a bloody mess that healed itself in a few seconds. The blood was still smeared starkly on Jensen's pale skin, though, and Frank licked his lips for the last taste of it before he flew back further, as far as he could in the shared cell without actually touching the bars of the opposite wall.

He could _still_ hear Jensen in his head, could feel the confusion lift, and the embarrassment, the guilt set in. "Shit," he said. The shock of it was enough to dampen his own arousal, but he could still feel Jensen's thrumming hotly in his head before it cut off, sharply, with a tang of regret, and a guilt deeper than his own.

_Fuck._

It was too much. It wasn't nearly enough. He couldn't deal with this, though, so he focused on what else he could sense. He could hear the guard in the hall, his footsteps, his heartbeat, felt a pale echo of his dull thoughts - the man wasn't focused on his captives, felt this was an easy position and was happy for it, thoughts on the bet he might make for the next night's football game, and what he would have for dinner. 

Frank hadn't ever used his pheromones before, but it was so laughable how easy it was. Too easy, unfortunately, as he could feel Jensen's thoughts clouding over as Frank flooded the area with them, along with a small mental push to 'come to the cell'. 

It didn't work immediately; the guard was nowhere in sight, but Jensen was straining forward against his cuffs, and Frank stopped when he realized how affected the wolf was. But there was nothing for it - he couldn't establish any kind of telepathic link unless the man had been affected enough by his pheromones. 

It didn't take as long as he'd feared, though, before the man was walking to the cell. Frank almost smirked, but didn't want to acknowledge the visceral satisfaction of clawing into the man's mind. He could still feel Jensen's, as well, surprise and interest, and - he cut that off, viciously, that wasn't helpful for his focus at all.

"Open the cell," he said, though he didn't actually have to; it was just easier. The man obeyed, and Frank stepped aside slightly to give the man room. "Unlock his cuffs."

The guard marched into the cell without hesitation, and knelt by Jensen. In seconds, the cuffs were off, and Jensen had the man pinned to the cell wall with an arm across his throat. There was no resistance; the guard's helmet was pointed slightly in Frank's direction. "Sleep," he said, and immediately, the man went boneless as he rushed into unconsciousness. 

Frank swallowed. Part of him was thrilled at the complete control he had, wondered if he'd ordered the man to die instead, if he would have. But another part, the part that had longed to live as a human, hated this, and he looked away as he exited the cell. Jensen let the man slide down the cell bars and followed immediately. 

And Frank could still _hear_ Jensen, hear the flutter of his thoughts and emotions; anger, curiosity, frustration and still, lust. He caught impressions; Jensen wanted to see his eyes again, wanted to feel those teeth in his neck, down his chest, on his wrists. Frank couldn't entirely stop the awareness, but the further away he was, the easier it was to at least pretend to ignore, to forget immediately after he caught the echo.

He cleared his throat, forcing his heartbeat to calm, his body back to a more restful state, though Jensen's own agitation and arousal made it difficult. The weight of daybreak settled more heavily on him than it had before, though, and that helped. He heard Jensen take a breath behind him, as if to speak, but Frank shook his head. "Let's move. There's a security station near the stairwell junction I can use to check the systems," he said, and didn't bother to wait for an answer before he strode off.

========

It was almost insulting when he realized how few people the Chimera had needed to infiltrate their defenses, their protocols. As always, it wasn't anything he could have prevented himself, down to the nature of people and their laziness, greed, emotions or gullibility. He didn't have all the answers yet, but the Chimera only appeared to have twelve men present, three of whom were holding most of the researchers and staff in two of the labs one floor up.

The security room wasn't large, however, and behind him Jensen was still thinking about Frank in his lap, alongside the more logical process involved in deciding their next moves. It was distracting as hell, and likely didn't actually _mean_ anything. 

"The hostages are safe for now - he placed you in with me first, I imagine he'd intended to feed them all to me one by one until Sarif complied," Jensen said out loud, and Frank was grateful to have something he could focus on instead of the wolf's thoughts; the heat, the hunger...

"Thanks to my protocols, they shouldn't be able to access the cameras, and until one of the other guards comes down to check on our man, they won't discover he's been incapacitated - their radios are useless in the basements."

Jensen grunted. "Which means we need to get to Sarif," he said, his thoughts sorting possibilities already, dizzyingly quick in analyzing locations and approaches. 

Frank nodded, though, fingers flying on his keyboard as he sorted through logs, faster than he ever had before. "He was on-site for the attack, but I don't think he was able to get to his Panic Room. I'm not showing any access on that panel - he can see the whole building from in there. The cameras in his office have been disabled - the feeds show armed men entering, but go dark after that. Audio feeds are silent as well. If they're in the office, we're going in blind." 

Jensen nodded, but Frank sighed. "We can't use the elevators, though," he murmured. "They've been disabled." He didn't need to say that of course Sarif's office was on the highest floor of the building - they both knew that already. 

Jensen only grunted at him. "Let's go," he murmured. His face was as still as ever, his eyes guarded, but Frank could hear his heartbeat, strong and racing - and he could still hear Jensen's thoughts, felt a phantom mouth at his neck before he shook his head and gestured for Jensen to lead the way. 

This was going to be the longest morning ever.

========

The actual rescue, like most things in Frank's life, was actually fairly anticlimactic. David's 'office' spanned the entire top floor, and held not only a desk and computers, but also a private lab for his own personal research, and a suite of rooms Frank was very familiar with. They'd encountered four guards in the stairwell on the way up, which meant that the last few had to be with the Chimera, presumably in David's offices.

Frank hung back - while he was not winded in the least, and couldn't remember ever feeling so energetic, so strong, he also wasn't a trained fighter in any capacity. At the least, he could hear what Jensen wanted of him (_all_ of what Jensen wanted of him, unfortunately), so verbal communication was unnecessary. 

There were two more guards in the small reception outside David's office, disabled quickly and quietly, before the two paused at the door - David's office, however, was apparently soundproofed against even supernatural eavesdroppers, and Jensen's shoulders went tight before he jerked his head and Frank moved behind him. 

The office door slid open silently, but no one was in sight from the entry. This was intentional, however; Frank knew that this feature was for added security. But this meant they could get closer to the lab, and whether or not there was any additional soundproofing, it was for naught as the doors were simply wide open. There were two heartbeats in the room, the Chimera and the human guard, but Frank could also feel his Sire in the room as well. Even he didn't know David's age, but the man no longer held a heartbeat or bothered to breathe unless he spoke. He enjoyed the discomfort this gave others as an advantage few had earned. Frank tried to slow his own heartbeat, stop the habit of his own breathing, but there was nothing he could do for Jensen. They didn't have a lot of time before they were discovered, he was certain of it.

"-You _must!_ You know what's at stake," growled a deep, angry voice, and Frank shivered in spite of himself. Jensen spared him a glance, and Frank shook his head. The Chimera meant every word he said - all these lives meant nothing to him. No life held any meaning for him, save the easily exploited value others held for them.

"You yourself told me I don't even have the time I'd need to learn everything I'd need to know first - and that's assuming that what you want is even possible. I'm not convinced that it is. I've spent the night reading your files, and I'm afraid your degeneration is irreversible at this point."

"Then stop it where it is," the Chimera replied. "How long would I have?"

There was silence for a moment, and Frank felt the moment his Sire realized he was there. Then, an instruction: *Wait*. He put one hand on Jensen's shoulder, nearly jerked it back when he was flooded with a repeat of the soft sighs he made as he drank from Jensen, but held it and shook his head when Jensen looked back at him. 'Wait,' he mouthed, and Jensen frowned, but nodded. 

"Not long. Your systems... your advanced healing is the only thing keeping you alive, but even if we halted the degeneration, your body has suffered much from just slowing the progression as much as it has. Whether I can halt the cellular destruction is not really relevant - the damage is too severe. If the degeneration halts, your healing also halts, and you will likely decay faster."

"You're WRONG!" the Chimera roared, and there was a loud crash. Jensen darted forward then, before Pritchard could stop him, and took only a single heartbeat once he was in the doorway to analyze the situation before he rushed in and took down the guard with the full weight of his body at speed, crushing the man's head against the floor in a blow that left him still. Frank heard a weak heartbeat still, but his attention was focused on the Chimera as he also approached the doorway. 

His Sire's approval flashed through him, a rare enough sensation that he wished he had time to savor it before he ruthlessly quashed the thought. David probably heard it anyway. 

"You!," the Chimera hissed, eyes on Frank, though he shifted so Jensen was in his periphery. Jensen kept still, because at this point, the Chimera was outnumbered, and at the least they might get answer. 

"Me?" Frank asked.

The Chimera moved, but Jensen moved faster, and the scuffle, while loud and violent, was surprisingly short. Jensen was injured, bleeding, and the scent of it nearly knocked Frank to his knees again - he didn't miss the speculative thought David sent his way. 

But the Chimera was down for good, bleeding out from the deep gash clawed through his throat and stomach. He looked at David, and Frank felt the overwhelming _pity_ his Sire had for this creature, though his face showed only the barest hint of it. 

David stepped closer to the man, and cocked his head. "I understand why you did it," he said softly. "But you were made by inferior scientists, and even I cannot work miracles. I am sorry, for what it is worth."

It was, for him, a kindness Frank hadn't expected of him, but whatever the Chimera thought of his words, it went with him into whatever waited past death. After only a few more labored, burbling breaths, he was still.

David glanced to Jensen. "Status report?" he asked, and Jensen gave a brief summary of the information they had. He nodded, then waved a hand. "Get back to the basement and take care of those last three mercenaries - non-lethally, if you can, and make sure no one leaves. We'll have to get them all checked out and statements collected," he said, with a harsh sigh, rubbing at his temple in a gesture he still used, though he felt no tension or pain of that nature any longer. 

Jensen nodded, and was off. He'd get it done, and probably without a single casualty. Frank finally relaxed - though Jensen's thoughts never left him entirely, they grew fainter with every floor between them. 

"Well," David said, more amused thank Frank felt he should be, "So you and Jensen?"

Frank scowled. "It was necessity. They had a silver cell they locked us in - with him in silver manacles. I don't even know how they delivered and assembled it. I... we couldn't think of another way out," he said, but David cocked his head at him. 

"I don't disapprove," he rebuked. "How do you feel?"

"Warm, good," Frank replied immediately. "I.. I can hear his thoughts as well."

"Still?" David asked, and Frank sighed, then nodded. 

"The distance helps," he admitted. "If we're touching, it's full sensory memory along with thoughts, but if we're not, it's surface thoughts, one or two senses or impressions," he said. 

"Interesting. We're stuck here for some time; the Authorities have been waiting outside since the lockdown, so I'll stand the security down and let them in. Don't worry - you're 'already being airlifted to my private doctor' after this ordeal. You will give your statement in two weeks, once you've flushed the last of Jensen's blood. For now, go to the computer at my desk and take notes of the experience," he said, and it was no less an order for the mild wording. "And Francis?" he called.

Frank turned around, kept his gaze flat to convey how little he approved the use of his name. 

David smiled at him, sharp and full of his own dark humor. "Make sure not to leave _anything_ out."

Frank didn't bother replying; they both knew what David meant, and his Sire could get it out of him one way or another.

But describing just what happened? He wasn't ready to relive those memories yet - he wasn't even ready to _have_ those memories, honestly. 

And yet, he was dreading the loss of Jensen's blood, and the warmth that came with it. It couldn't ever happen again, so he'd have to make the most of the next two weeks, while he could.


	3. Chapter 3

Frank's stay in David's 'private hospital' lasted longer than the two weeks his Sire had suggested would be necessary. The process of flushing out the rest of Jensen's blood was like the longest, worst hangover Frank had ever had. 

First to go was the thought-sensing, thankfully. He'd never been able to hear David's thoughts, but he had sensed his emotions somewhat, which had been a bit disconcerting. He would never have guessed how paternal David felt about, well, most people he considered 'his' - including Frank himself. 

But slowly, his senses dialed back, scent and hearing dropping to the levels he'd long been used to. It was harder to deal with than he thought; he'd grown to enjoy the difference, and could easily see why people sought out this kind of power. But he'd also been more susceptible than ever to the dawn, dropping off into a deep, powerful sleep even amid the private, windowless suite he was kept in. 

He was returning to the near-human state he'd been in before, and it was... It was awful, if he was being honest. He'd never known what he was missing, after all, and the synthetic blood substitute David had crafted for him only kept him alive - there was no satiation, and he was more aware than ever of the hunger, the dark thirst that had his eyes linger on the necks of the few humans who attended him on occasion. 

David was a little disappointed Frank had never told him this, that he still grappled with the thirst, but Frank honestly hadn't realized how _present_ it had really been. It had become a constant he grew used to, and only aware of it now that he'd experienced a fraction of a taste of the satisfaction living blood offered. 

And that was the worst part, wasn't it? He hadn't had his fill at all, had only pulled away because... because...

Everything he was experiencing was the result of merely sampling the true nature of what he was, and it was nearly impossible to put into words how torn he was. He longed for that feeling again, the heady taste/experience, but also, he wanted Jensen, _specifically_, in a way that was as confusing as it was infuriating.

Their relationship had improved much since they'd started working together, but Frank knew most of the resentment had been one-sided, and due to a lot of misconceptions he'd had about Jensen. Misconceptions that had partially been addressed, but trying to clear the air fully meant being in the room with the man again, and that was a terrifying prospect, wasn't it? 

Three weeks in, and Frank knew he was being a shit, but he also didn't try too hard to rein himself in. He was miserable, thirsty, hungry (which was different, it _was_), sore and tired in ways that couldn't be addressed by anything other than time, and he wasn't a man particularly known for his patience in the best of circumstances. 

Which, of course, may or may not be due to the fact that he'd been riding an edge of hunger he hadn't ever really been aware of before now. And now, he was a guinea pig again, as David tweaked his formula and recorded Frank's response. Thankfully for the both of them, David had far more patience than Frank had ever realized. 

There was also one mortifying conversation that covered the events in the cell, and the strong telepathy, but Frank was committed to forgetting that had ever happened. David had been quite interested, and it was, well, it was over, at least.

There was no end in sight for when he might be able to resume his life, however, which was an additional frustration. He did want to get back to his job, his apartment, he _did_, but he also wanted to sate himself on blood until he couldn't even move anymore, which would only start this process over, because pinging on _any_ supernatural test, even once, would be the worst thing that could happen to him.

If only he could somehow have both, right? But that's what David was trying to give him, and that was the thought that kept him in this suite; he wasn't confined, and could leave if he wanted, but David had asked him to to stay. 

And the promise of being able to live as human without this terrible thirst? That was enough to have him lay back against the observation bed and try to keep his eyes open for another ten minutes. Just ten minutes more. 

Then ten minutes after that, if he could. 

He fell asleep.

========

Eventually, of course, he was well and truly free, and back on his diet of synthetic blood, only he was having it more often, in smaller doses, as David tweaked the formula. Things were mostly back to how they had been, only...

Only he still had the thirst, more than he'd ever had before. Sometimes, the formula made it worse, and Frank took a few sick days. Due to his cover story, this was often spun as mental health days, while Frank suffered in that damn suite attached to the lab on the top floor of the building he worked in.

Oh, and for some reason, he could _still_ hear Jensen's thoughts, the clarity of which depended on their proximity. Frank kept hoping it would fade entirely, but it hadn't, and while he'd wanted to say something after he'd returned to work, their first few interactions he had to cut short until he realized it wasn't fading and then he just... well, it wasn't a problem if they weren't ever in proximity, right?

So he avoided the man every chance he got, and it was surprisingly effective. At one point, he'd resorted to carrying a handkerchief soaked in fennel and peppermint oil - Jensen couldn't get within fifty feet of him then, but it bothered himself enough that he only used it in foreseen 'emergencies', with a bottle he kept in his office. 

He knew it wasn't something he could keep up, and maybe if he told David he was having this issue, something could have been done, but he didn't do that _either_. So of course when Jensen managed to corner him in the lab after hours, it was only his own damn fault. 

He'd been chasing down a security leak, but once Jensen was within ten feet of him, he felt Jensen's satisfaction, and heard the echo of a plan involving more computer savvy than Frank honestly thought Jensen had, to keep him here after hours for a Talk.

He sighed, and ended the progress on the search he'd been working on for the last two hours, before closing his programs and locking the computer. 

Even now, he could sense Jensen's intense focus on him, the feelings associated far too complex to be sorted easily. "What _is it_, Jensen?" he asked. 

"Caught me, did you?"

Frank shrugged. Normally he'd berate Jensen's use of a false security breach, but given his own behavior, he could see why it had come to this, at least. 

"You're making it real hard for me to do my job, you know," Jensen said, stepping closer, but Frank put his hand up.

"There's fine," he said, taking a step back, and tried to mask it as a desire to lean against the table behind his desk. "Let's get this over with." Despite everything, he could still feel Jensen's _interest_, and it drove him insane. He could sense attraction, and that was part of what Jensen was projecting, but that didn't actually mean anything, really, and Frank couldn't really parse the rest. Was it curiosity?

Jensen sighed. "Why have you been avoiding me? I thought it was just coincidence, until you doused yourself in scents you know a wolf would hardly stand," he growled. 

Frank sighed, and flicked his eyes to meet Jensen's gaze. Maybe it would be better to get it all out. He straightened, and pulled out his phone to lock his office. Jensen cocked his head when he heard the locks engage, and Frank shrugged. "I need to ensure our privacy - I control the recordings of this room, but... this should remain private," he said. 

Jensen nodded. "Go on, then," he said. 

Frank bit his lip, and from Jensen he felt a spike of lust so strong that Frank might have staggered from it if he hadn't been leaning on something. "I can read your thoughts!" he blurted, then shook his head. "I mean.. it's.. it's not always clear, not always words, but I get impressions from you. The closer you are, the clearer they can be. It's... it's been like that since the, ah, the cell," he said.

Jensen said nothing, but Frank felt his confusion, then a rush of emotions; anger, curiosity, _relief?_, and amusement, all at once. "Is this why you've been even more of a dick than usual?" he asked, and Frank looked up at him to meet his gave finally.

"Yeah," he said, because, well, it was the truth, and maybe now he wouldn't have to work so hard to avoid Jensen.

Jensen actually laughed. "Is that all?" His anger had faded, and he was now more amused than anything else, and Frank hated it.

"No, it's not _all_," he hissed. "This has been... the recovery has been terrible! I had to stay in David's lab for almost a month to get back to my normal, and you know what? I haven't! I'm always hungry, the synthetic blood sustains me, but it's not _enough_, and I was fine with that before I _knew!_ And you're here, I can always tell when you're near, even if I can't hear you - and when I can, it's, it's annoying, because, as I said before, _I can hear your thoughts!"_

Jensen's amusement quickly turned to concern, at least, but that was almost worse. "Don't pity me!" Frank said quickly. "This... this isn't your concern, not really. Our jobs have some overlap, but honestly, it's not... This is working for me, it's fine."

"It's really not," Jensen murmured, and stepped closer, but this time Frank had nowhere to go. "It's been almost three months, and you still... you're still affected."

"Stop, Jensen," Frank said, and the wolf did, for a moment, head cocked. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Frank laughed. "I meant to, once it went away. David said it would fade, but it obviously hasn't. I mean, it appears to have faded as much as its going to."

"And what did the boss say about that?"

"He may not actually know," Frank said, eyes on his hands, currently plucking at the fabric of his shirt. He felt Jensen's confusion, and shrugged. "He's been working on fixing the formula, and through all the other changes, this hasn't been affected at all." He almost added how curious David had been, but refrained - it wasn't really Jensen's business anyway. 

"So why keep drinking the synthetic?" Jensen asked, voice soft.

"It's... it's better this way. I can still live like a human, this way. It was fine, for almost ten years, I was fine!"

"You look younger now, you know that?"

Frank glanced up at Jensen, frowning. "What?"

"After the cell, you looked younger than you had - you still do, but your cheeks are getting sharper again, the bags under your eyes pronounced. I wondered why, but it's starting to make sense."

Frank honestly hadn't paid any attention, but he bet the detail didn't escape David. 

"That doesn't matter, anyway," he grumbled. "I'm grateful he saved my life, but... I never thought I'd be something like this. I don't want to be chained to the night, to prey on people," he said, but stopped before he voiced his true thoughts, because what he didn't want to be was a monster, and even he wasn't tactless enough to say that to Jensen's face. 

But he felt Jensen's wry amusement anyway, like he caught the unsaid sentiment. "You don't have to be, you know," he said. "Do you think Sarif's chained to the night? That he preys on people."

Frank barked a harsh laugh. "He doesn't sleep at all, actually, and sometimes, yes, he does - though never for their blood," he admitted. 

Jensen laughed, and the feeling of his amusement resonated in Frank's blood as he stepped closer, and Frank shook his head. "Jensen," he warned, and for some reason, Jensen's smile only grew. 

"You may as well call me Adam," he rumbled, and Frank swallowed. "You can sense my thoughts, right? My feelings?"

Frank couldn't quite respond, because this close he couldn't block them at all. Jensen was, he was amused, he was happy and relieved, and he was also _hungry_, in a way that called to the hunger in Frank, as well.

"Adam," he replied, faintly, and knew the wolf wouldn't need to read thoughts to realize he was overwhelmed. It wasn't just his thoughts, but this close, his heartbeat thundered in Frank's ears, the scent of his blood reigniting a thirst for a satisfaction he'd never actually tasted. 

His fangs dropped, suddenly, and he felt himself sway forward. "Please," he breathed, and suddenly Adam was there, with his heat, and his blood, and his hunger. His lust, thick in Frank's senses, echoed his own. 

"Please what?" he asked, his big, warm hands resting on Frank's shoulders briefly, before running down to his hands, catching and stilling the nervous motion. 

"Fuck," he breathed, and Frank lunged forward, hands breaking free from Adam's to pull him close by his hip and grip his hair to pull his head to the side. "Fuck," he gasped, as he licked at the hot skin of Adam's neck, blood rushing beneath his tongue, separated by flesh he knew would part so easily for him, for his bite...

"Yes," Adam gasped, his thoughts a litany of want, surging against the edges of Frank's mind. _Yes, yes, take it!_

Frank scraped his fangs across the wolf's flesh, and Adam melted against him, pressed Frank into the edge of the table. "I want," he breathed.

"Me too," Adam answered. "Francis, please," he begged, and that was... that was... Frank gasped, and shoved Adam back, his own chest heaving, almost dizzy. Adam rarely used his given name, and had never said it like that out loud. But it was _exactly_ the way it had sounded in his thoughts, in the cell. 

Frank swallowed, but couldn't force his fangs to retract. He gripped the edge of the desk with all the strength he had, to keep from falling on Jensen and taking everything he could right there, in his office. 

His _office_. The lab. 

"Not here," he panted, and darted over to the wall, where a hidden door led to the on-site quarters he kept here, for the unpredictable hours he kept. They saw more regular use than he cared to admit, but he'd never been more grateful for them than he was right that moment. 

Adam was only moments behind, and when the door shut behind him, the room was only lit with the soft glow of various electronics; the room wasn't small, but it held only a bed, a small kitchenette, an entertainment center, and a door that led to his bathroom and laundry. He turned the light on, mostly for himself - Adam's vision was probably enough to see at least a bit, but Frank had no guarantees this would ever happen again, and wanted to see everything.

Adam glanced around curiously, but only for a moment before he looked at the bed, then back at Frank. He was only a few feet away, but Adam stepped closer, and reached out to trail his hand along the bare skin of Frank's neck, and Frank was assaulted with the images Adam was projecting - skin on heated skin; sharp pain, over and over again; the scent of blood, of arousal - and Frank gasped. 

"I want this," Adam said, soft and serious, but Frank could hardly concentrate on the words, on their meaning. He tore his jacket off and threw it on the floor, then reached for Adam's. 

Adam cooperated easily, laughing as Frank fumbled with the heavy garment, and then his shirt beneath, but the moment he was free from both, Frank pushed him towards the bed, already crowding against him and taking lungfuls of his scent; it was heady, all musk and lust, and rich, vibrant lifeblood. 

Adam went willingly, and touched Frank in return, oddly gentle in a way that Frank noted but couldn't focus on. It was nice, but he was so, so hungry, and Adam was there, he was warm, and willing...

Adam laughed, and lay back against the bed, and pulled Frank against him. "Take it," he breathed, tilting his head, and that was it, Frank was unable to resist any longer. 

The first bite was even better than he remembered, the slick rush of blood over his lips and tongue more visceral, more satisfying than the memories he tried to repress. He moaned, he knew, and pressed closer, hands urgent on Adam's shoulders, in his hair, down his chest. His nails had grown, he knew he was leaving marks and cuts, but he couldn't help it, and Adam certainly didn't mind, if his own sounds, if the flashes of pleasure Frank could feel were any indication. He also knew that Adam's healing ensured the marks lasted only seconds before the skin was again whole, unblemished. 

"Fuck," Adam breathed, one hand carding through Frank's hair (when had it come out of the ponytail he'd been wearing?), another rubbing down his side, his spine, gripping at his ass every now and again. His thoughts, like before, were unfocused, a litany of _yes, more, Francis, please, PLEASE_ \- and Frank loved it. He pulled back, just to make sure it wasn't only in his mind - he wanted to hear it, for real, his name the way Adam said it. 

"Say it," he murmured, licking his lips of the last drops of blood that clung to them. Adam's neck had already healed, though the smears of blood left on his skin remained where Frank had been feeding. "Say my name, again."

"Francis," Adam moaned, "Please, don't stop!" He pulled Frank towards him, but Frank instead tried to work at the rest of Adam's clothing, then realized they both had to remove their shoes. He laughed, but his mirth was short-lived. He wasn't satisfied, yet.

He turned his gaze back to Adam, but hesitated. "You can stop me, can't you?" he asked, "before I hurt you? Drain you?"

Adam, apparently as eager as he was, already had his shoes off and was working on his pants. "You can't hurt me," he said, and Frank frowned. Before he could ask, Adam paused what he was doing and leaned forward, fingers brushing over Frank's chin. "I already asked Sarif," he murmured, and Frank almost squawked, because _what?_ When had this happened? 

But Adam's smile distracted him, and Frank frowned in confusion. Adam's fingers pulled back, slick with his own blood, and he licked them, slowly. "Can I kiss you?" he asked. Frank nodded, and only a single heartbeat later, Adam's lips were on his, tasting faintly of _his own blood_ and Frank moaned again, pushed back against Adam. He felt Adam's hands working on his own jeans, and Frank groaned and pushed at him weakly. 

"Wait, wait, shoes," he gasped, and immediately toed them off his feet and kicked them... somewhere. Adam shucked his pants, and reached for Frank, kissing him messy and deep as he worked his hands into Frank's jeans. He spent more time groping and stroking the flesh he found, and Frank finally shoved him back to the bed, to wriggle out of his clothing fully. 

Adam's appreciation slammed into him, and he gasped, rushing forward again to touch him. He never had asked if Adam felt anything similar, but for Frank, it was the most addictive feedback loop of pleasure. Adam lay back and pulled Frank along with him, neck bared. As if Frank didn't realize what he wanted, he spoke, "Francis, please, drink, drink" he urged, but Frank was already biting into him again before he'd finished speaking. "_Yes_, fuck!" he gasped, and Frank could feel it, the satisfaction and pleasure Adam felt. 

Like before, Frank had to keep biting to keep the blood flowing, since Adam's healing kept closing the wound, and each time he did, he felt Adam's pleasure. Unlike before, however, Adam was bare against him, and his hands freely wandered over Frank's body, restless and hungry. Unlike before, he could feel Adam's erection against him as they rutted and twisted together. Unlike before, Frank could bite anywhere he pleased, and he did, biting down his chest, at his hip, his thighs, into the meaty flesh of his calf, his ass, just to feel the difference. Adam wanted it all. 

It was almost frightening for him, but Adam himself wasn't frightened at all. No, Adam felt... Adam felt safe, he felt happy and relaxed, and.. and he felt things Francis was afraid to name or examine. Things that felt too deep to be new, too fragile to be anything but. 

The hunger had felt endless, the thirst bottomless, but here, with Adam, he finally felt full. Sated. Warm. 

It was amazing, and he was glad he'd kept the lights on - Adam healed so fast that with the lights off, Frank would never have been able to see his bites before they fully healed. Only moments after his last one, and the only marks of the journey he'd taken across Adam's skin were the smears of blood his mouth and hands had left behind. 

"Adam," he breathed, hard and aching, and Adam growled, a sound that set Frank's blood aflame. He pushed Frank onto his back, then crawled over him, licked him from neck to naval before he settled in, nosed at Frank's groin. 

"Smell like me," he growled, "like mine." The casual possessiveness should have infuriated him, but it didn't. The words felt like affirmation, and Adam held no shame for the pleasure he felt here; it was almost as heady as his blood had been. 

He'd been tempted to say something, but hadn't managed to formulate a response before he was robbed of words by Adam's mouth sliding down over his cock. Adam didn't give him time to adjust - he kept his mouth moving, hands petting down Frank's sides, his thighs, toying with his balls or rubbing gently at the tight clench of his hole. Frank didn't stop writhing, but even with Adam's blood flowing in his veins and giving him strength, Adam held him down with little effort. 

He didn't know how long Adam spent driving him wild like that. Each time he neared orgasm, Adam would pull back to nose along and take deep breaths in the junction of his thighs, or tease at his entrance, and only when Frank had regained the slightest bit of breath back, he'd resume his attention on Frank's cock. His thoughts remained a mantra of pleasure, snatches of words that Frank didn't dare dwell on; _wanted this for so long, Fuck, the way he smells, his voice, Christ, his eyes, his hands..._

It was so much, all of it, and Frank couldn't take it. He shifted, and his clawed hand gripped harshly in Adam's hair (he felt the echo of the scrapes along Adam's scalp), and he rocked into the wet heat of the wolf's mouth, almost timidly at first, but Adam's vocal and mental encouragement soon had him thrusting as deeply as the position afforded before he finally shoved his cock as deep as he could manage, and held Adam there as he came and came, so deep Adam had no choice but to swallow him down. 

Adam loved it; he could feel that Adam's arousal hadn't flagged, his dick thick and dark as it stood proudly from his body as he shifted back up the bed to pull Frank against him. He seemed to realize that Frank needed a moment to catch his breath - figuratively speaking, since he didn't technically need to breathe. 

His touches were gentle, even if his thoughts were a storm of barely leashed lust. Frank frowned - he still wasn't able to retract his teeth, and he was fairly certain that as much as Adam loved being bitten elsewhere, he wouldn't welcome bites to his dick. 

But he laughed softly. "Like this," he said, taking one of Frank's hands and wrapping it around his dick, carefully, as Frank hadn't managed to retract his claws, either. "That's it," he breathed. "Bite me again?" he asked, clearly not bothering to hide how much he wanted it - even if he tried, Frank could sense it in his thoughts, eagerly chasing the spark of pain, the unique sensation of his blood being _pulled_ from him.

Frank laughed softly and leaned in, let his fangs scrape across Adam's skin again just so he could feel Adam's cock jump in his hand, warm precum sliding generously down his fingers. 

It only took one bite, before Adam's thoughts whited out in pleasure, and Francis' name on his lips.

========

Frank woke up slowly, something he hadn't done since he'd been Turned. He felt warm, comfortable, and let his senses expand slowly. He felt Adam's warmth against him, the wolf's fingers slowly drawing up and down the bare skin of Frank's back and side, occasionally running through his hair.

The soft rumble of his voice finally penetrated the satisfied calm of Frank's mind, though he didn't care to pay attention yet. This was, it was unfamiliar, but nice, and after he woke up would be conversations and weeks more of that awful detox. Adam was still here, so surely he wouldn't begrudge Frank a few minutes more. 

He realized Adam was talking with David, and sighed. Adam had said he'd already had a conversation about _him_ with his Sire, and yet...

"Think he's finally with us, boss," Adam said, and Frank felt that he was grinning, and ducked his head, not sure he was ready for the sight of it. He didn't stop touching Frank, either, made no move to get up, and the only thing Frank could feel from him was a contentment so solid that he couldn't pick up anything else.

"It's about time," David said from the holo displayed a few feet in front of Adam, but he sounded amused, and Frank realized he could feel that, as well - probably more due to the fact that his Sire let him than that he'd finally been able to drink his fill.

"I'm up," Frank grumbled, and shifted to sit up further, but didn't move away from Adam. If the wolf wasn't going to move, Frank was going to soak up as much of this as he could, while he could. 

"How do you feel?" David asked, and Frank actually laughed, because he was certain the vampire already knew. 

"Great, actually," he admitted, because it was true. He felt _alive_ in a way he hadn't realized he'd missed. It would be hard to let this go, but... but as good as this was, he didn't want to be Registered - while rich men like David Sarif suffered few consequences for his status, Frank had none of the protection the man's money and age brought. Fledglings like himself were often incarcerated 'for their protection' and suffered abuses and 'testing' to serve their debt to society while they were being 'protected'. "I... Adam, are you..?" He glanced to the wolf, but Adam only smiled. 

"Doing pretty great myself, actually," he said, fingertips drawing circles on Frank's hip. 

Frank just stared for a moment, because, this was... this felt so impossible, so unreal. "I, I fed until I was sated," he murmured, and though he turned towards the holo, he didn't meet David's eyes. "Last time, it was only a, a little, a few swallows." 

"Of course you'd feel great after that," David laughed. "Honestly, when Adam came to me with his questions, I thought he was crazy. You seemed pretty determined, you know."

Frank only shook his head. "I didn't, I didn't plan this, it just...happened." He felt Adam tense next to him, his fingertips stilling their motion, though he didn't pull away. With this much contact, the _fuck, FUCK, I fucked up_ was clear as day, and Frank shook his head. "That doesn't meant I didn't want it," he said quietly, for Jensen more than David, but no doubt the man heard it anyway. "I did, I _craved_ it, the second we were safe and every one after it. But... I... I don't want to live as a vampire," he said, and though Adam's fingers began moving again, he didn't relax fully. "I don't want to be Registered, I don't want to be 'taken in for my protection', and I don't want to live in another country where vampires aren't on registries."

"Frank, is that what you thought would happen?" David asked quietly, so serious that Frank finally looked up to meet his gaze. His Sire leaned back, allowed the shock to show on his face. "That's... I can't believe I didn't realize. That we haven't talked about this once in the last decade? Frank, none of those things has to happen," he said, eyes boring into Frank's as if he could just will his Child to believe him.

"What do you mean?"

David's smile was more smirk, really, arrogant and benign all at once. "David Sarif is a Registered Vampire, but you know that's not my true name. There's not a test the humans have devised yet that I can't falsify in one way or another - I could live fully as a human, and often travel as one when I choose to. And even _if_ you were registered, you are _my_ Child and you will never be taken from me as long as it's withing my power to prevent it. Have you truly suffered this whole time out of fear?"

Frank looked down, ashamed, but felt, for the second time since he was Bitten, the warm regard David had for him, the possessive sort of pride he had at his choice in keeping Frank, and the fondness that had grown in the years since.

Frank couldn't stop the gasp, and glanced up in time to see the indulgent expression linger a few seconds before David grew serious. "This is great, actually. Go ahead and take the day off - maybe take a few! I know Adam won't really want to let you out of his sight anyway, so why not head to his place when it's dark enough. After your honeymoon period, or, whatever, we'll take a trip, you and I, and we'll really talk - and I'll teach you everything I know; at least, about being a Vampire," he said, and Frank couldn't do anything but laugh, overwhelmed, relieved, maybe even actually happy. "Huh," David said, but then shook his head. "Have a great few days, I've already told Adam everything he should need to know, but feel free to ask if you have any questions. I wouldn't worry, though, there's no way he could hurt his mate."

Frank stiffened, his eyes went wide, and Adam's fingers spasmed on his hip as his frame went tight and straight next to him. _Oh, oh shit, shit_, Adam's thoughts screamed, and his expression said the same. 

"Great," David said. "That's a conversation you're having without me, but Adam, you'd better tell him everything - because you can bet I'll be going over it all when we visit my home in no less than two weeks. Have fun, kids!" The holo-projection cut out, but Frank couldn't tear his eyes away from the wolf. 

"Mate?" He asked softly, and Adam sighed, relaxed only the slightest fraction. 

"Yeah," Adam replied with a sigh, and let go of Frank's hip to pull his arm in. 

Frank wasn't having that, though. He shifted, pushed Adam back against the headboard and leaned into him. Adam could absolutely move him if he wanted to, but his hands only settled gently on Frank's sides, though he kept his gaze on Frank's shoulder. 

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked quietly, and grabbed one of Adam's hands with his own, to play gently with his fingers. 

"I didn't know how. And you, you were huge dick like, all the time. Everyone else knew, anyway," he grumbled, and Frank laughed, maybe a little more meanly than necessary.

"I suppose I was," he agreed, "But what do you mean, everyone knew? Everyone who?"

"Everyone important. Boss, Malik, a few of your guys, most of mine," Adam sighed. "When I was turned, I just, I _knew_ it was you, I sought you out as often as I thought I could, but..."

He didn't have to elaborate. Frank really had been a huge asshole when they'd first met, and worse after Adam's Change. "In my defense, I thought you were bullying me," he said, and Adam pushed him back enough to look at him.

"What? Why?"

"Well, I already told you what I'd thought when we first met - and then the Change? I thought you were some bully ex-cop that got the supernatural upgrade you wanted, and the _first_ thing you do is start harassing me? An Unregistered vampire? I thought you knew what I was, I didn't even know I passed as human!"

"I invited you to _dinner!_"

"I thought you were going to try to blackmail me offsite, where it wouldn't be recorded!"

Adam just stared at him for a moment, then he laughed. "All this time," he said, and Frank just watched him, though he could feel the grin take over his face - he couldn't seem to help it, really. 

"All this time," he replied. "So, what does this entail?"

"It's... a lot," Adam murmured, and Frank smirked. 

"You know? We've got time. Days of it, in fact. Now that I'm not all... fang-y, let's get washed up, and how about I repay the blowjob you gave me last night? I bet you taste _delicous_," he purred, and although he could feel Adam's desire rush into his mind, and the enthusiastic agreement that thundered in his thoughts, the dilation of his pupils and the surprised, aroused breath he drew in were also very gratifying.

Adam hauled him in for a devouring kiss, and well. Perhaps things didn't go in exactly the order Frank had described, but they did get around to cleaning up, eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> There you have it! Hope you liked, the peppermint and fennel scent bomb came from thebibliosphere on tumblr.


End file.
